A Small Story
by EveningCicada
Summary: Sometimes a story can change everything. A runaway teen finds peace in a story told by the stranger who rescues her. After you have read it, did you find out who the stranger was? Leave a review and tell me! Rated T for safe. Oneshot.


I met a kind stranger when I set out to run away from home. He was patient and kind; however, his heart was heavy with loneliness and sorrow. A part of him was empty. His sad eyes told me he just wanted to be a part of a simple happiness. I understood what he was feeling; he didn't have to say a word about it. It saddened me. It's horrible reading someone's sadness just by looking at them.

He saved me, though.

When I had abandoned my abusive home, I set out on a long, dusty road that would lead me anywhere. I knew the whole thing was risky because there was no guarantee I'd find anyplace to reside in. But I figured it was worth a shot. I wouldn't get anywhere by staying at home. I followed the faint trail of asphalt until I could see any form of civilization; anything at all. Smoke, cars, buildings.

I never found anything.

I can't remember much, because I had fainted, but during my long and exhausting journey to wherever, I collapsed of dehydration.

The only vivid memory I have of the event was feeling my face press against the burning concrete. My backside was being baked by the sun and I felt a spider crawl upon my hand. Usually I dislike spiders, but I was too weak to move.

When a shadow stood over me, I thought it was a car.

When I felt my body being lifted from the ground, I thought it was another dizzy spell.

And when I awoke in a small, square house with a blanket draped over my shoulders, I thought I was dreaming.

"Are you all right?" the stranger asked.

"Water," I croaked.

He handed me a bottle of water, It wasn't like any water I've had before; it was fresh and nourishing, almost full of life. It restored me back to my regular, healthy condition just after a few sips.

In disbelief about the water, I asked, "Did I die? Am I alive?"

"You're alive," the stranger replied before taking a seat in a chair across from me. "You're also lucky."

"Where am I?"

"Seaside. The small town of Seaside."

"I guess that explains the water."

"It's delicious, hm?"

"Very."

The raccoon leaned back in the wooden chair. He told me a beautiful story.

He told a story of two animals that fell in love with each other. One was a store owner in a small town. The other a tailor who lost her parents at a young age. These two lovers shared a passion for sunsets, evening stars, and watching the seasons change. Their friends often talked about the two getting married. The girl, who had never found a reason to smile after her parents' deaths, learned to laugh again when she was with the boy. Life was simpler then. One day, the boy decided it was time.

"Will you marry me?" he asked the girl under a summer's sky of stars.

The girl began to cry tears of joy. "Of course I will."

Carefully, he slid the ring onto his fiancee's finger and they kissed.

But the boy became selfish. A month after his engagement, he felt he had made a mistake. He couldn't marry now; he had never accomplished his city dream. For long times, the boy wished to move to the city and see what business he could find there.

He knew what he was doing was wrong, but he felt the need to chase after those big city lights. He was very money-driven, and that is not a good thing to be. The girl was not mad; when the boy told her about his unaccomplished dream, she responded, "I'll wait. I'll wait until you are ready."

Months turned into years. Very busy with her shop, the girl never visited the city to visit the boy. However, she kept in touch through letters. The boy, who knew how much time the girl spent tailoring, bought her a pair of orange fabric scissors in the city and sent them to her as a birthday present. She never put them down. She never forgot about the boy or doubted their love. Miles stood between their bodies, but not between their hearts.

A few years later, the boy returned. But he was no longer the boy he used to be. The city made him spiteful and bitter. He became even more money-driven and had lived by himself for so long that his heart grew used to being alone. He didn't want a partner. He hid his feelings and didn't reveal his insecurities, which had also developed during his time in the city. Solitude had poisoned him.

"I can't marry you," the girl sobbed, "you've changed into the one thing you said you'd never be. But the worst part is you let them change you."

The boy realized his mistake soon afterward. He regretted his decision and couldn't believe how foolish he was. He left behind his whole life to chase a forgotten dream.

Like the city, the girl eventually became a forgotten dream too.

The girl still uses her fabric scissors to this day. She keeps a box of their love letters and her engagement ring under her stool. That way, she can look back on the memories of the boy she used to know.

The boy, however, carried with him a strong ache of regret. Such intense regret and sorrow. He never stopped thinking that maybe, just maybe, if could find the strength to talk the girl he might have a second chance. He knew the girl might give him another chance; he wasn't sure if he could give himself one.

The two animals, once lovers, sit solemnly behind their desks, one a store owner and one a tailor. The boy lived for his dreams; the girl wanted to find hers.

So the tailor sits behind her sewing machine, hearing it gently reel, while the store owner sits behind his cash register, remembering how things were but not the boy he used to be.

Sometimes you're so busy counting your Bells you don't remember to count your blessings.

"The things we do for dreams," the stranger said when he finished.

"That was a beautiful story," I whispered. "Is it true?"

"Every word."

I closed my eyes for a few minutes, recapping it in my head. Silence filled the room. "Thank you," I said quietly, "for everything."

But alas, the raccoon was gone.


End file.
